


Him & Her

by LoyalMule



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 00:39:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18063269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoyalMule/pseuds/LoyalMule
Summary: “You’re Meredith Grey, aren’t you?” He asked, stopping her. She looked at him. “Your name. It’s on the buzzer plaque outside. It wasn’t there yesterday.” He said somewhat sheepishly. “It’s just, I know everyone in this door, and I didn’t… know you.”“I moved in today.” She said, the annoyance had disappeared, and she offered him a half smile.(AU, Artist:meredith, student:andrew)





	1. Her

**Author's Note:**

> soooo... I don't know where this thing is going, if it ever is going to go anywhere...  
> Motherof4dragons told me to post it, she has also Beta read it. 
> 
> Its Au, its something that just poped into my head, and I had to write it down...

She walked out of the door to the apartment she had just moved in to. Walking down the rounded staircase to the main floor, she noticed the worn walls of the house. It was an old building, though some of the fixture’s had that old-fashioned beauty to them. Through the window halfway down the stairs she saw the rain pouring down. It was dark outside. She walked out to the roofed walk passage between the main door and the buildings back yard. She walked over to the end of the roof, leaning against the wall.

She put the filter of a cigarette against her lips and lit it. She took drag of smoke in her mouth. The smoke swirled around her tongue for a moment before she inhaled the smoke into her lungs. _I should quit._ She thought, it was her third cigarette in the last hour and the third time she had had that thought. She did not really want to though, truth be told she liked smoking. It was a good excuse to leave any situation. And the nicotine always calmed her mind. She knew that might be a placebo effect, but she believed it and therefore it worked. Funny how your mind works. If you believe enough in something your mind will make it true. Right now, she tried to believe the nicotine would make her tired enough to sleep. It was nearing two am, and sleep had not been her friend lately.

She let her head fall back against the wall, facing slightly sideways, looking up at the dark sky. She took another puff of the cigarette. The sound of the rain hitting the ground was the only sound she could hear. She sighed, seeing the white smoke she exhaled form patterns in front of her before disappearing. Living in Seattle city centre there would never be any stars visible, to many lights from the city reflecting in the sky. It would never completely dark during the nights, the sky will always have an orange tint to it. Her mother would always complain about that, but she found it beautiful.

Her mother would complain about most things. No, don’t go there. She was in a semi good mood, but thinking of her mother would undoubtly change that. She did not hate her mother, she just had an indifferent feeling towards her. Their relationship before her mother had died had been difficult. But truths had arisen afterwards, and that was something she wasn’t ready to deal with yet, even though two years had passed now. She had tried staying at the house she grew up in after her mothers’ passing. But to many bad memories made it too difficult. After two years had passed, she decided it was time moved out and move on. You can’t make your mind change its course of thoughts when you start having them, and she felt her mood lower.

She heard the entrance door behind her, a company of people fell through the door. She suspected they were drunk, as most would be on a Friday night at two am. She looked at them from the corner of her eye, putting the cigarette back against her lips. Three boys and two girls, the laughing. One of the girls fell over and laid laughing on her back, making her silver sequin dress reveal more than it already was. Her girlfriend tried with uncoordinated hands pull it down, while two of the boys pulled her back on her feet again. The third one was rummaging around his pockets, most likely looking for keys.

She shook her head, turning away from the party. She was nearing the end of the cigarette, thinking she could possibly get another three puffs before it would be to close to the filter. Before she could put it to her lips, a hand came in front of her face, taking the cigarette from her. An instant annoyance came over her, she pulled her brows together. The party had gone inside except for one of the boys. The one who had been looking for the keys. He put her cigarette to his lips and took a drag.

“What the fuck!” she said angrily.

“You know, these things will kill you.” He said after exhaling the smoke. He smiled wide at her, giving the cigarette back to her.

Taking the cigarette butt back, she glared at him, still with angry lines around her eyes. He was dark. _South European roots?_ she caught herself thinking. She figured he was about ten years younger than her, around twenty. The lines of his face were strong. The dark shortly trimmed beard on his chin gave him an almost mysterious tone, the darkness of the night probably adding to the effect. His black hair and clothes were damp from the rain. Somewhat taller than her, he was thin with a muscular frame. The suit he wore hung loosely on his body. He had the buttons open at the neck of the shirt. She could have considered him good looking, if she had not been so annoyed over her quiet time being disturbed.

“We’re all going to die from something someday.” She said sourly, placing the cigarette by her lips.

“Dark.” His brown eyes gleaming in the yellow sheen from the lightbulb on the wall.

“Nothing but the truth.”

“Sounds like your speaking from experience?” He stood relaxed against the wall, hands in his trouser pockets.

She wasn’t sure if he was asking her or stating the fact. She didn’t answer him, just raised a shoulder in a shrug. She placed the butt of the cigarette on her lips for a last time. She flicked the butt away at some random direction, and made a move to walk back in.

“You’re Meredith Grey, aren’t you?” He asked, stopping her. She looked at him. “Your name. It’s on the buzzer plaque outside. It wasn’t there yesterday.” He said somewhat sheepishly. “It’s just, I know everyone in this door, and I didn’t… know you.”

“I moved in today.” She said, the annoyance had disappeared, and she offered him a half smile.

“I’m Andrew.” He walked up to her, hand extended. She shook his hand. “Welcome to the building. I live there, with my idiot roommate, Sam. She’s the one who fell on the ground.” He grinned at her, pointing to the door his friends had disappeared into, opposite the staircase in the passage.

“We’re celebrating. Passing the midterms.” He answered an unspoken question. Not that she was curious. Its Friday, people are sociable and drink on Fridays. “Do you want to join us?”

“Do you always invite strangers in morning robes to your afterparties?” She asked him sceptically.

“No.” He grinned. “But I thought I would start now.”

Before she could answer, a window from his apartment opened, and the two other boys hung outside the window, one scrawny looking with short light brown hair, the other one slightly less thin with blonde curly hair. The girl named Sam hung over the two boys. The blonde haired boy clearly had had more to drink than he should have started singing loudly.

“ _And if he falls in love tonight, it can be assumed.”_

The scrawny boy took over.

“ _His carefree days with us are history. In short, our pal is doomed”_ after which both started mock crying. Sam was just laughing hysterically.

“I think I’m going to pass on that. I think maybe you should go and get Timon and Pumba to bed, they clearly have had too much to drink.” She turned and walked inside towards her staircase.

 _I should have stayed in the house._ She thought, at the sudden realisation of now having neighbours on all sides of her home.


	2. Him

“what can I get you?” The woman behind the counter asked cheerfully. He stared at the coffee menu, thinking.

“Ehm… can I have a… regular latte, a mocha cappuccino…” He scratched his chin. “What else do you recommend? I don’t know what she likes…”

“Buying coffee for a new girl?” The barista winked. “The pumpkin spice is quite popular among girls.” She suggested.

“I don’t think she’s a pumpkin-spice-kind-of-girl… but let’s have it anyway.” He agreed. “And just to be on the safe side, one triple espresso americano.”

When he woke up yesterday, he had not expected to meet her. Had had not expected yesterday to be anything special at all. He had gone through the day, just as all the other days up until yesterday. Wake up, go to college, do the work, eat, sleep, repeat. He didn’t have a dull life, he never felt anything was missing in his life. He had some good friends, the occasional girl, he was still young.

He’d had his midterms yesterday, he felt confident about his effort. After which he had met up with a few friends to celebrate. He had put on a loose fitted suit, because why not, it looked good on him. It had been a fun night, not unlike the evenings on previous weekends. The alcohol had gone freely among his friends, and though he’d had a good amount himself, the alcohol had just not taken as it usually did. Not that he minded, someone needed to keep an eye on Sam. Later, he would be very grateful for the fact. The alcohol had made him just the right amount of courageous to walk up to her. To talk to her. To be dark and mysterious. Not to be that goofball his friends called him.

She had seemed annoyed, no, pissed, when he took her cigarette from her. He wasn’t a smoker, had only had a few when he was fourteen, like most kids. Trying to fit in. It hadn’t tasted well, and it had taken all his willpower to not cough, not to make a grimace. He would never understand why someone would choose to smoke. Is it always because of peer pressure? Do all of them start at a young age?

He handed the girl behind the counter a twenty note and put the change in the jar next to the register. Outside, he took a deep breath, the sent of coffee steam hit his nostrils together with a slight smell of spring and exhaust from the passing cars. It was close to eight in the morning. He had slept well last night. He had woken early, mostly of habit, going early to college. What had compelled him to go and get several different cups of coffee, he didn’t know. When he walked out it had seemed like a perfectly fine idea. Now, he found himself nervous, about to knock on her door. _To late now,_ he thought, _I already got the coffee_. He knocked. Quiet. He knocked again. Still quiet. He tried a third time. There was a faint sound coming from inside the door, slow, dragging footsteps closing in on the other side of the door. Just as he lifted his hand to knock once more, he heard an angry shout.

“Stop it!” her voice had a tired tone to it, like she’d just woken up. He heard the lock turn. Before she opened the door, he subconsciously straightened his back. He could see that he had woken her up. She was dressed in an oversized tee and wore a pair of pink fluffy slipper. Her hair was tied in a messy knot at the top of her head. A blonde strand of hair hung loosely over her left eye.

“Good morning.” He smiled cheerfully.

She blinked confused a couple times, like she tried to remember who he was.

“No.” She turned around to close the door behind her, but he was to quick. He threw his arm out, stopping the door.

“I brought coffee.” He said as an incentive, tilting his head to the side. She stared at him for a moment.

“Fine.” She said and walked into her apartment.

“I don’t know what you like, so I got a few different kinds.” He continued to ramble up the coffee typed he had bought. Judging from the look she gave him, he gave her the triple expresso americano.

“Pumpkin spice for me then.” He attempted to joke. It didn’t go well. “you don’t say a lot in the morning, do you?” it wasn’t really a question. He placed the other two cups on the small table in front of the couch.

“No.” She grunted. She sat on the small couch, sipping on the coffee, letting the bitter liquid rest on her tongue before swallowing. She had her eyes closed, occasionally smelling the steam rising from the lid.

He walked over and sat down next to her, his eyes darting through the room, taking in the content. Boxes stacked high and low, marked with the various content; kitchen, clothes, materials. Between the boxes was something he might have not expected. Canvases, big, small, and all sizes in between, colourful paintings of various motives. Curiosity took over and he got up to have a look. Just as he reached his hand out to have a look at one of the canvases that was facing the wall, her sleep-hazy mind seemed to suddenly wake up. She sprung to her feet, ripped the painting from the loose grip of his hand. She quickly threw it in to the bedroom and shut the door.

“I’m sorry.” He looked at her sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine.” She said calmly, sitting back down on the couch, sipping on her coffee. “Just not that one.”

He nodded, picking up a smaller canvas, showing a dark painting of a house. His fingers carefully traced the ruff patterns of the acrylics. He put it back again. He walked around the room, looking at the various paintings, manoeuvring himself between the boxes and paintings.

“You made all of these?” He asked astounded. She nodded over her coffee cup. “They are amazing. Is that what you do? You’re an artist?”

“I’m not an artist. It’s just passing time.” She had her eyes closed, almost hoping to fall back asleep.

“What are you doing here?” She asked after a moment of silence. Eyes still closed, head leaning on the back of the sofa. He turned around from where he was standing with a painting in his hand.

“Why don’t you have any pants on?” He questioned her back, a twinkle in his eye. She raised her head, looking at him, looking pointedly on her bare legs resting on the table. She followed his gaze to her legs, realising they were indeed bare, except for the fuzzy slippers.

“You woke me up.”

He chuckled putting the painting back leaning against a box. He went back to the couch and sat down.

“I will let you get back to sleep.” He said before finishing the rest of his coffee. He stood up again, taking a couple of steps towards the door. He turned around, seeing she had stood up as well.

“Thank you for the coffee…” she started hesitantly, probably feeling the forced politeness that is usually expected. “This was… Ehm… “

“Unexpected?” He suggested.

“Something like that…” She breathed out a half laugh.

“See you later?” he asked over his shoulder, just before he walked out the door.

“No.” muffled answer, she probably already had her face in the pillow.


End file.
